Waste my hate on you no more
by Carmilla DeWinter
Summary: Severus Snape escaped the Shrieking Shack to Canada by using an antivenin and a Portkey. Eight years later, a rather unhappy Draco Malfoy manages to connect the dots. Follows "An Ace Brewer", though it's not necessary to read that one. Somewhat Epilogue-compliant.


Severus Snape escaped the Shrieking Shack to Canada by using an antivenin and a Portkey. Eight years later, a rather unhappy Draco Malfoy manages to connect the dots. Follows "An Ace Brewer", though it's not necessary to read that one. Somewhat Epilogue-compliant.

Tags: queerplatonic relationships, asexuality, (references to) homophobic language. Some references to the original StarWars movies. A handful of OCs in supporting roles.

* * *

Waste my hate on you no more

Part 1

(eight years and seven weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts)

_New Hope for Vampires?_

_It all started out as a friendly argument about the perception of vampires in Muggle culture between Cat Fenny, owner of Rainbow Potions on Pentagram Way, Toronto, and fellow half-blood brewer Joseph Amir three years ago..._

Draco Malfoy stared at the article, and even though it was about this new thing called TrueBlood :P, (whatever the :P was supposed to mean) and even though as a Potions Master, he should have been interested in the potion, not in the potioneers, he couldn't quite help himself wondering about this Joseph Amir.

The night of the last day of finals in his second year at Hogwarts, making a nuisance of himself in his godfather's quarters.

"You didn't own an Arabian dictionary last time I was here."

"I might interest you in books yet, I see."

Draco had made a valiant effort not to roll his eyes. He did read, only not everything, unlike Severus.

"Why are you learning Arabian?"

A long stare, sizing Draco up. "I was curious. As for the reason, kindly remember your lessons on pure-blood family history."

Fifteen years later, Draco did so again. The Prince family was old, dating back to the ninth century, when an enterprising Arabian wizard had settled in Britain, made a fortune by using the then advanced Oriental knowledge, and later married into the gentry. His name had been Yussuf al-Amir, first changed to Josephus Principius, later to become Prince.

However, given Rita Skeeter's try to discredit the potioneers one article down, nobody else had found the clue. Amir had no prior publishing history. Miss Fenny apparently was living with a female werewolf club-owner, and Rainbow Potions doubled as a "sexual education" shop.

If Draco was correct, his godfather was keeping quite colourful company.

The door to his office banged open, and Astoria peered in, wearing revealing green dress robes. "I'm off to a luncheon with Daphne. Catch."

Draco caught the silvery orb without thinking. However, it prevented him from protesting that they had agreed that Wednesday afternoons were his, and that she'd stay home to look after Scorpius on at least two days per week. Astoria banged the door shut again, and Draco set the baby monitor on his desk, suddenly wishing Severus were here to commiserate on the shambles of Draco's marriage. If he really set his mind to it, he might even be able to weasel a hug out of him.

It would have been nice to be able to lean on someone, because try as he might, Draco couldn't do anything right in his life.

Certain people, including his parents, had been scandalised when he'd gone for a potions mastery instead of solely managing his family's diminished assets. His mother had finally harried him into pursuing Astoria Greengrass, and they'd married a month after Lucius had been released from Azkaban. Two years ago now.

The only good result from that was Scorp, and there, too, Draco had had to yield to his parents, instead of naming the child Orion or something equally sensible. In fact, he still hadn't entirely forgiven Lucius for being called Draco, even after twenty six years of living with it, and he just hoped he'd be seen more favourably by his son one day.

Sighing, Draco collected quill and parchment to go write a letter to Rainbow Potions, while watching over his son in the nursery. He'd ask about purchasing a license for selling their recipe on the European market, while dropping subtle hints about Mr Amir's history.

xxx

Around five, his mother found him in the kitchen, while he was trying to spoon carrot-and-oat into Scorp. At seven months, the child of course was a messy eater, so both he and Draco looked accordingly.

"You could ask one of the house-elves," his mother pointed out, as always. No need to add that Astoria would be rather caught dead than spattered in orange mash. No need to point out that Draco had been fed by house-elves until he could manage table manners.

"I could," Draco said, as always. He could have said, this is the only person in the house who is delighted to see me. This is the only person in the house who allows me to touch them. As a child, I would have given everything for some warmth from my father.

"I would have expected Astoria to be back by now. Didn't she say it was a lunch at her sister's?"

"That she said."

Narcissa clucked her tongue. No doubt there would be another lecture from Lucius later, on how to treat wives well and how to keep them in check when you failed.

Right. Draco would have gone for a divorce, gladly, only such a thing wasn't done, so he and Astoria had agreed to be discreet, should they ever have an affair.

As no more criticism was forthcoming, Draco decided to ignore his mother. "So, what do you say, Scorp? Ready to catch one more snitch for the team?"

Narcissa clucked her tongue again at the nickname, but Draco preferred not to react. He was unhappy and desperately lonely, and he wasn't going to enlighten her about that. At least, this way, he could pretend that she didn't realize, instead of plainly not caring.

xxx

The owl to Canada was back on Sunday, with a longer letter about the business proposal and a scrap of parchment hidden inside

_Congratulations on the mastery_, it read, in Severus's spidery handwriting,_ Feel free to drop by any time. This message will destroy itself in one minute._

Draco watched it burst into flame, then allowed himself to stare into space for a while. Severus Snape was alive and wanted to talk to him. It certainly was a much bigger, more precious gift than any one present Severus had given him before.

xxx

"Pansy, Daphne, and I will be shopping in Paris," Astoria said that evening, when Draco told her about his plan to go to Canada to meet Miss Fenny, and secure a license for the TrueBlood :P. "I'm afraid you'll have to postpone a little."

Well. That from the wife who was going to spend non-existent money soon if he never did any business.

"Right," he said. "I'll just take Scorp along, then."

Astoria's mouth opened and stayed that way, no noise coming out.

It was a delight to be able to raise an eyebrow, and say, "you didn't really think I was going to try and seduce a lesbian, did you?"

"All the more reason to keep Scorpius away from her. He might catch her unnatural ways."

"You mean her women-loving ways? I don't see how that would be bad. Unless, of course, you were counting on our son to be inverted?"

For once, Astoria was speechless, so Draco left her sitting room, taking the baby monitor with him.

In all actuality, he understood Astoria's disappointment. She had wanted a husband in the real sense, to have and to hold and all of that, and while Draco had no difficulties performing in bed, he had very little idea what to do with women outside of it. He could be friends, yes, especially if they challenged him on an intellectual level, but there was something lacking in him, something that would have made him an actual partner, for Astoria or any other woman.

He didn't think he'd ever been starry eyed over anyone, but Astoria had expected him to be in love, or at least fall in love with her at some point. It just wasn't in Draco to feel that way. His fault, of course, even though it wasn't like he'd chosen to be such a lizard concerning romantic relations.

xxx

Deciding to take Severus up on his offer, Draco made arrangements for an international Portkey, packed an overnight bag, and left with his son on Tuesday after dosing Scorp with a potion against Portkey-illness.

He arrived in Toronto at nine o'clock local time. Despite the early hour, it was already hot and humid like in a greenhouse, and the smell permeating from the lake reminded him unpleasantly of dead fish. Scorp fussed until Draco freed him from his outer layer of robes.

Pentagram Way was a very short walk from the Apparition point, the entrance located in the back of a brick building that served as a pub, called "Demian's Diner & Bar". Even though it clearly was a wizarding establishment, there was one of those Muggle telly screens, with a placard advertising, "All Leafs games live!"

Luckily, there was a magical breeze on Pentagram Way, and Rainbow Potions easy to find. For a moment, Draco stopped to have a look at the three story townhouse. The door with its obnoxiously colourful sign (Owners: Catlin Fenny, Isobel Grimm and Joseph Amir. Opening hours: Tue thru Sat, 9:30 – 12:30 am, 2 – 5 pm). A large show window to the left, displaying cauldrons, a selection of stirring rods and vials, and "Old scars? Participants wanted for trial in co-operation with Shiloh Clinic." The smaller window to the right was entirely covered in posters. "Lycanthropy Self-Help Group. Tuesdays, 5 pm." "Queer-Straight-Alliance, meets Wedsnesday 6 pm." "whip/lash party. Every 1st Sat of the month, 11 pm. Sappho Club. 2 floors." And so on.

Most of them puzzled Draco, even though he would never admit that out loud.

As chance had it, it was just past half nine, so he entered the shop. It was surprisingly cool inside, a desk and "kids' korner" to the left, the right hand side of the shop hidden by bookshelves.

A black-haired, blue-eyed woman and a person of unidentifiable gender with a lot of metal in their face were staring at him. The two seemed to have been pouring over a catalogue of sorts until then. There was also a black-haired little girl on a bean bag, who had some colorful Muggle paperback open, but also gazed at him out of eerily familiar dark eyes.

Scorp hid his face in Draco's robes, disliking the scrutiny.

"Good morning," Draco finally ended the awkward silence.

"Hi," the black-haired woman said. "You're Draco Malfoy, eh? Sev showed me a picture. I'm Cat Fenny, this is Isobel Grimm."

"How do you do," Grimm said.

"Lils, go fetch your father," Fenny interrupted before Draco could answer.

The little girl in the bean bag harrumphed.

"Ah. Sorry. Darth Lilith, would you please tell Lord Vader that a Jedi envoy has arrived."

"Of course, Darth Talon." The girl offered a gap-toothed grin, then scampered off.

In vain Draco tried to reconcile what he knew about Severus with those ridiculous nicknames.

"Right. My daughter Lilyan. Don't mind the star wars references. Come on to the back room. Who's the cute little man?"

The back turned out to be a good sized conference room made from wizardspace. Draco was ushered into a chair and offered tea.

It turned out Miss "call me Cat" Fenny meant iced tea by that.

Severus's arrival conveniently covered up any surprise he would have shown otherwise. Because, wow, did Severus Snape clean up nicely. He looked more healthy than Draco had ever seen him; his hair was longer, tied back, and had a bluish shimmer to it. There were fewer lines on his face, and while he was still pale, his skin had lost the yellowish tone that came from breathing in potion fumes for too long.

Draco rearranged Scorp to his hip again and stood. "Hello, Severus." God, this was awkward. He wasn't a child any more, he couldn't just rush in for a hug, even if he wanted proof this was real. "Thank you for the invitation."

"It's just Sev, I'm afraid." A very thin smile acknowledged the estimated thousand and one 'don't call me that'-s. "And you're welcome. You look like someone who needs a vacation very badly."

This was the polite version of "you look like shite". Draco couldn't help sagging.

Severus frowned, and Draco hoped against hope that this meant some actual concern. "Why don't you introduce the young man, and then you can tell me how you're doing."

"Um," said Miss Fenny. "I'll just leave you to your catching up, eh?"

And so they sat, and talked. There was a thunderstorm around noon, and after that, the air had cleared up, so they moved to the porch in the back, overlooking a small patch of grass, where Lilyan had settled on a blanket and was still reading.

Severus never explained the why and how of having a daughter with Miss Fenny, who was in a relationship with Miss Grimm the half-werewolf, only called it a "very satisfactory arrangement. I am not husband material."

"Neither am I," Draco had said.

They had sandwiches for a late lunch, and at seven, when the werewolf self-help group had left, they all went to Demian's, had hamburgers with chips and a surprisingly good time, considering neither Severus nor Draco were in the habit of loosening up. Scorp was sticky with ketchup by the time they were leaving, so was Lilyan, and no one scolded the six-year old for it.

Cat bullied Draco into accepting the guest bedroom. "For as long as you need it, really." Which proved she was far more perceptive than she looked.

"We could use an additional brewer," Sev said later, when they were sitting on the dark porch, nursing some Zinfandel. "There's a free flat in the attic, with a small balcony."

Draco failed to suppress a yawn. He was dreadfully tired – jetlagged, that was what Sev called it – but he'd have time to sleep when he was back in England, where the company was worse. "I wish. Astoria would never accept a divorce, even if I survived Father's wrath to file for one."

"Lucius wouldn't kill you over this. You are his heir, after all."

"So is Scorp. And Father would love to get his hands on him. You should see how he looked when he realized that I was feeding Scorp, and wouldn't make the house-elves do it."

"I still doubt that he would try to kill you. I know he was devoted to your mother, last time I saw him. She wouldn't stand for murder."

Some things didn't change, and Sev was a right little ray of sunshine as always. It was rather comforting. "Given the situation in Britain, I don't think it's wise to alienate potential customers yet. I'll think about it again when things have settled down more."

Sev just hummed in response.

xxx

Wednesday morning was spent sightseeing. After making Draco dress like a Muggle, Sev took him and Lilyan and Scorp to the tall tower to have a look over the city, then for hot dogs and ice cream.

While watching Lilyan chase after some seagulls, Draco asked, "You wouldn't have been offering Muggle entertainment nine years ago."

Sev nodded, but seemed disinclined to elaborate.

"What happened?"

A wry smile. "A wise woman once told me that there was a lot of hate going around, and that I had two options. First, I can add to the hate and despise myself and others for things we didn't choose and can't change. Second, I can try to embrace these parts of myself and make the most of them."

Obviously, Sev had gone for the second option, and likely after decades of 'adding to the hate'.

"It doesn't sound easy."

"It is anything but." Sev stared into the distance. "There are so many things you can't decide for yourself. Magical talent. Species. Skin colour. Sexual preferences. And much more."

Draco had to blink at his sudden sense of vertigo, because, suddenly he felt as if he were again standing on the Muggle tower, looking straight down. Exactly how much of what he believed fell under the first option?

"Scary, is it not," Sev said eventually.

Yes. Draco mulled about those things the entire way back to the house, and knew he'd be doing yet more thinking when at home.

When Draco had to leave for his Portkey in the afternoon, he was finally able to finagle a hug out of Sev, while Cat was cooing over Scorp. Sev was solid and warm, and smelled nice. Also, he rubbed Draco's shoulder, and didn't seem like wanting to end the contact any time soon. ""I'm so glad you're alive," Draco whispered eventually.

Sev just hummed, and having that deep sound so close to his ear was a comfort all of its own.

xxx

"Why do you have a suntan from doing business?", Lucius asked at breakfast on Thursday.

What? Draco merely squinted at his father, because he was tired something dreadful, after arriving here close to midnight and then being unable to sleep because it was only seven o'clock to his body.

Narcissa clucked her tongue, and Lucius offered a rather ugly grin. "Someone was keeping you busy?"

"I'm jetlagged. Toronto is five hours behind us. It's three in the morning for me."

"One would think a Potions Master would know a remedy for this kind of trouble."

Oh, that was actually a good idea. Draco made a mental note to look into that before he went to see Sev again. Maybe a timed sleeping draught? Was it possible to mix something that would make you awake when the sun was up, but tired during the night? Sunflower, it would have to contain sunflower, and moonstone-

"Draco?"

He blinked at his mother, who looked as if she had repeated herself a few times.

"Sorry. I'm afraid I didn't catch the question."

"How did the talks go?"

"Quite well. Those two are quite ingenious, they even have an improved version of Wolfsbane. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to purchase licenses for their entire portfolio."

She nodded, and went on to talk about some Ministry function on Saturday that Draco wouldn't be able to skip out on. He'd also have to take Astoria. Gah. Well, she would be happy to show off her new overpriced Parisian robes.

A distant Malfoy cousin from France and his new wife would be arriving next Wednesday and stay with them for a few days, Narcissa informed him, "so I was thinking on putting on a small garden party on Sunday."

Ah. "There's a non-stop international Portkey to Toronto at three on Sundays," Draco said. "I'll have to catch that one. With the amount of paperwork necessary, it's easier to meet in person."

Narcissa bit her lip.

Well. Time to push some more, so Draco met her disapproving stare and added, "I'll be taking Scorpius, too."

Lucius cleared his throat, which dissolved into an unhealthy sounding coughing fit. When he had recovered, he said, "You're a little too old for teenage rebelliousness."

Twenty six, yes, and feeling like going on sixty. "Well, thanks to your choice of associates, I wasn't able to rebel much when I was a teenager, was I? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

xxx

The Ministry function was as stiff as expected, although Astoria beamed the entire evening, showing off a somewhat daring burgundy number and raking in compliments from everyone. Draco made sure to call her stunning several times, and had to admit that he found her cleavage fascinating when they were dancing. She really was beautiful. It was a shame he seemed unable to appreciate her personality in the same way.

Potter was there, too, smirking at him from time to time, but Draco made a point to ignore him. For once, he knew a secret Potter had no idea about.

Apart from one of Lucius's coughing fits, which made his parents retire early, it turned out to be a tolerable evening.

By the time they were leaving, Draco was a little tipsy. Astoria had drunk a lot more Champagne than he had, and ravished him in a chair in the hallway leading to her rooms.

xxx

As it was, Astoria stormed into Draco's office on Sunday around eleven, hair in disarray, pale and with dark circles around her eyes speaking of a hangover. "How could you!"

Hmm. Draco floated a hangover potion over to her, and she downed it in one gulp before collapsing on the chaise longue he kept in front of the fireplace. There was going to be a Conversation which warranted the capital C, so he moved to the chair next to the chaise, after reminding himself of Sev's lecture about the hate, and adding to it. "Would you care to elaborate on your accusation?", Draco eventually asked.

"You didn't even know if I was taking a contraceptive, and still you made me sleep with you."

What. "You pushed me into that armchair. Neither of us were sober. I didn't force you into anything."

She pouted. "You could have refused."

Why couldn't she just let it rest? Draco rubbed his temples, feeling the headache from his own hangover returning. "Given that I know you're brewing the contraceptive yourself... why should I have refused?"

"You hate me."

"No. I don't."

She frowned, which looked much better on her than the pout.

It was way too early in the day to have to act grown-up and finally address the issues. "I'm not in love with you, no. I don't think I ever will be. I also dislike the way you're neglecting our son. That does not equal hate."

Instead of an answer, she drew her legs up and hugged them. Maybe, maybe she was just as lonely as Draco was. "I don't get it. You're," she seemed to steel herself, "a considerate lover. I know you want me, and we got along fine during the courtship and the honeymoon. How can't you be in love?"

Well. "I don't know. I don't know what it feels like. At all."

Astoria sighed. "This is so fucked up. I was besotted with you, and then we started living here and you ignored me unless it was about Scorpius, and." She swallowed. "You weren't the man I thought I'd married."

So, in her disappointment, she had lashed out. Draco could understand that. He offered a smile. "I'm sorry."

"What? No rant on how I'm not living up to your standards?"

"Severus wasn't very tolerant of the attitude, back when we had to flee Hogwarts." Draco looked at his hands. There had been no one to impress, and Sev had had little patience for Draco's sense of entitlement.

He felt Astoria's stare and met it.

"You... Merlin. You're more of a responsible adult than Lucius ever will be."

Er. Draco summoned his best drawl. "You've noticed that only now?"

It cracked her up, as it was supposed to. Eventually she sobered, and said, "I forgot how funny you can be."

Right. "Are you sure you don't want a divorce?"

Astoria shook her head, sending her curls flying. "No. With Scorpius this young, it would damage both mine and your standing in society, no matter what reason we give."

"What do we do, instead?"

In the end, they put down the deal in writing. It would make them friends with benefits, if one wanted to put it crudely. Astoria would be free to chase romance elsewhere, as long as she was careful.

* * *

Part 2

(a week later)

Draco was over again the next Sunday, to talk business, which only took the morning. Severus and Catlin were aware of their creations' value, and Draco seemed in no mood to short-change them, so it was fairly easy to agree on preliminary terms to be taken to the solicitors for an actual contract.

After lunch, Draco and Severus again retired to the porch for iced tea and conversation. They started out with Draco mentioning his attempts at fighting jetlag, veered off to international Apparition, touched upon politics, French literature, and concluded with a detailed discussion of the ingredients of Floo powder.

It had been a long time since Severus had enjoyed talking to someone like this, because apart from Catlin, and now Draco, no one was capable of keeping up with him.

Around six, Lilyan stalked up to them. "Lord Vader? Lord Lindworm? The Ladies Talon and Lycan expect your presence in the dining room."

So, now she'd adopted Draco enough to call him one of those infernal nicknames. Severus rued the day Catlin had introduced their daughter to Star Wars. Lilyan skipped down the stairs to the lawn and back up while Draco collected his sleeping son.

"Why does she call you that?", Draco muttered. "It's nonsensical."

"It so isn't," Lilyan said, proving her very good hearing. "Darth Vader is the best Sith lord ever."

"Is he."

She stopped to consider Draco. "You have no freaking idea what I'm talking about, eh." She raced off then, calling, "Mo-om, we need to watch Star Wars tonight!"

And so they did. Draco fell asleep sometime in the middle of "The Empire Strikes Back", sagging against Severus. He looped an arm around Draco's shoulder and noticed how long the lad's hair had grown, feathering over Severus's fingers.

Thankfully, Lilyan too fell asleep soon after, so Severus was spared the Ewoks. He roused Draco and made him go to bed.

xxx

As was usual for them, he and Catlin met up in the kitchen before everyone else was awake.

"You and that godson of yours were awfully cosy last night, eh," Catlin said, when she had started on her second mug of latte.

Severus frowned into his own nearly empty mug of black coffee with a little sugar, and decided to ask. "What are you implying?"

"You don't just cuddle with anyone besides you daughter, is what I mean. You might still be seeing the child in him..."

Not that much. Draco as a child had been an annoyance unable to carry on a conversation that wasn't about himself or Lucius.

"... but I know he isn't regarding you as a parental figure. Didn't you notice how he checked you out when he first came over?"

It was very fortunate that Severus didn't have his mouth full for this particular announcement.

"Of course you didn't notice. Sorry."

"Do warn a man before you drop such a bomb on him, please. Also, I am certain you must be mistaken. Draco has been chasing after girls since he was thirteen."

"Doesn't mean he can't appreciate the male form, eh. Plus, he's a peacock. As well, from what you told me, he's pretty fragile these days, so I wouldn't be surprised if he latched onto the first friendly body."

Obviously, Severus shouldn't have asked if he didn't want an answer. Come to think of that, Draco had been somewhat unhealthily obsessed with Potter at times during his school days. "What do I do?" His interpersonal skills were sorely lacking, after all.

"You'll have to talk to him. Make clear what you can and can't offer."

Severus raked a hand through his hair. Until now, he had successfully avoided to tell anyone from his former life about his little quirks. It was one thing to be accepted with Catlin and Isobel, who knew and were able to make jokes about it, too, without being insulting. It was a whole other thing to have to out himself to someone who thought 'inverted' a perfectly acceptable term for gay persons, and had used 'queer' as an insult from time to time.

"As an alternative, I can corner him for a shovel talk."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you know the 'what are your intentions, and if you hurt him, I'll kick your ass to Antarctica' talk."

"Ah." It sounded like an entertaining discussion to listen into.

"I'll take that evil little smile of yours as an agreement, and shall dig out the baby phone."

"Do so." Severus emptied his mug. "And thank you."

xxx

In fact, Severus didn't have to wait long, because Isobel commanded him and Lilyan to make salad and dips for the barbecue they were planning around midday, while she attended to the steaks. Therefore, Catlin had ample time to corner Draco while she made him help setting up a table outside, after leaving their old baby monitor with Severus.

"So...", came Catlin's voice. "I can't help but notice how you're looking at Sev, eh."

A pause, then, "Excuse me?" Draco sounded genuinely puzzled.

Lilyan, who must have noticed how Severus had stilled, whispered, "what's going on?"

"I'll explain tonight, when he and Scorpius have left."

"Okay."

Severus hadn't heard Catlin's next sentences, but as he returned to listen, Draco was sputtering. "I- what? I haven't had a single sexual thought about men in my life."

Lilyan giggled, precocious little minx that she was.

"But you're coveting his touch."

Draco didn't answer.

"And I doubt you fall asleep on just anyone."

A clinking of cutlery. "I don't. I trust that man with my life, you understand."

"Yes. I'd still say you should think about what exactly you want from him. He doesn't do sex, and he doesn't do romance, so if you want either or both, you should better back off now."

"What do you mean, he doesn't do romance? Potter made these big speeches about how Sev loved his mother."

"Uh-oh," Lilyan said.

Exactly. Severus had a sick little churning in the region of his stomach.

"Love can be many things," Catlin said. "I do love him, so does Isobel, but he never made us see the world through rose-coloured glasses, eh. Severus is perfectly capable of being utterly devoted and showing that only by being forthcoming with information about himself, and offering the occasional cuddle."

Heat crept into Severus's face. Catlin knew him too well.

He missed out on Draco's answer when Lilyan wrapped herself around his legs. "Don't be sad. I love you."

"I know," he answered in classic Han Solo fashion, and hoisted her up onto his hip to breathe in the scent of her hair as she giggled. "Let's go and rescue the poor lad, Princess."

While Draco wasn't blushing any more for the meal, and neither was Severus, Draco did watch him with seemingly new appreciation, and appeared to, again, be in thought when he left for Britain.

When they watched "The Return of the Jedi" on Lilyan's insistence that night, Severus somehow missed Draco's solid, warm presence by his side.

xxx

On Thursday, when emerging from the lab for lunch, Severus found Catlin and Isobel doing a polka in the kitchen to some Michael Jackson song blaring on the radio. When they spotted him, they hugged and dissolved into giggles like teenagers, and he found there was a pang in his stomach, as if from jealousy.

"Sorry, Sev," Catlin said eventually, with an excited gesture toward an official looking letter on the table. "Just couldn't help the silliness, eh. The FMDA approved TrueBlood. We gonna rule the Americas!"

Isobel offered her a fist bump, which incited more giggling.

"Did you try the funny coloured pills from the club?" Severus asked. "If you have any left, I'd like them for an analysis."

The only reason the women didn't fall over seemed to be the fact that they were still hugging.

"Oh, come here, Sev. Hug?"

After some congratulatory squeezes round his middle, and having to go fetch Lilyan from her reading, they settled around the table for food and discussed the implications. There was no way they could supply the entire US with TrueBlood :P, so they would need to hire at least one more competent brewer or, again, sell the license. There were advantages and disadvantages to both.

"The editor of JAHA threatened us with an interview, if it was approved," Catlin reminded them, once they had agreed to sell a license. "It's obvious we can't have any pictures-"

Severus tuned out the rest of her speculation. No pictures, no, and obviously no one would know that he would be instrumental in ridding the wizarding world from one of its worst banes. Even the Dark Lord had been cautious about vampires, because if they were hungry, they had very little regard whether their next meal came from an ally or an enemy.

He'd also changed the Wolfsbane so that a small daily dose could be administered, and one forgotten dose didn't have the unfortunate effects that had made Lupin senseless and allowed Pettigrew to escape.

As much as Severus was relieved to never have to be the Evil Bat Of The Dungeons again, it still was disappointing that he couldn't claim two of the most important breakthroughs in potions in the last ten years.

Well. A thought for another day, much like Draco's divorce.

xxx

Draco was unusually bouncy when he arrived on Sunday morning with Scorpius in tow.

As soon as they had a quiet minute to themselves, Draco shoved a piece of parchment into Severus's hands. "First try at JetLegs Draught. I'm a genius."

Severus read over the ingredient list and instructions. Sunflower petals, nightshade, moonstone... coffee beans?

Draco's foot was beating to an unheard rhythm, quite unlike him.

"You did test the draught on yourself?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You're making me nervous with all that fidgeting. We'll be going for a walk to get rid of the excess energy, and next time you brew this, try tea leaves instead of coffee. They produce much less of a high."

"Right."

Draco wasn't much use for anything that day, unable to concentrate for long, with very little appetite. The only thing he willingly imbibed were Isobel's ayurvedic infusions. Fortunately, the nightshade did its job, and Draco went to bed as soon as it was dark outside.

The next morning, Draco was back to normal, and eager to discuss options for the JetLegs Draught. The light/dark binding obviously worked, however, it had been working a little too well. Severus magnanimously decided not to tease Draco about that. It wasn't like he'd gotten his experience with caffeine overdoses from trying to stay up cramming, like normal students did.

xxx

"You've been moping since we got the FMDA approval," Catlin said on the morning after their interview with Panacea Bugler, who was the editor of JAHA and had fawned over Cat, while totally ignoring him for being a no-name brewer.

Severus sneered at his coffee. He'd rather not admit to such pettiness as his thoughts currently were.

"Unlike you, I can't read minds, Sev."

He met her blue-eyed gaze, and debated whether to answer her. Well. She would continue nagging until he gave in, as she always did. "I wonder if faking my death was wise in the long run."

"Bugler is a snob, eh," Catlin said. "And she wouldn't have been if she knew she were talking to the one person to win a potions mastery under the age of twenty-five."

Severus inclined his head. There was that, too. He could have done it even earlier, if Hogwarts hadn't been so rigid about taking the NEWTs only after seven years of schooling. It was an entirely good thing that the Salem Witch Institute would allow Lilyan to skip classes if she so chose.

"You're right. I'd hate to be unable to publish something big like that under my own name."

What? Severus had a hard time to keep himself from gawking.

"I understand you. I might not be as bent on fame and honor as the proverbial Slytherin, but eh. Sometimes a little recognition goes a long way."

"Thank you."

"Pfft. You get that situation with Draco Malfoy under some semblance of control, and once we know if he's allowed input, we can decide how we're going to go about the grand reveal."

Severus was still feeling mortified when Lilyan scampered in and demanded toast with Nutella.

xxx

'Controlling the Draco situation' was easier said than done, because on Saturday night an owl arrived with a letter from Draco, begging off. Apparently, Lucius had gone to a healer for some persistent cough he was having, and they'd kept him at St. Mungo's for further testing.

_Aspergillus niger,_ Draco's update on Wednesday read. _There's fucking fungus growing in my father's lungs, thanks to Azkaban._

This was, as Severus knew, not good at all. Especially considering the profanity Draco had employed. He didn't have to elaborate that the healers were at their wit's end. Catlin scrunched up her nose at the diagnosis, too, and wrote to her mother, who happened to be a Muggle and a nurse. They mailed the suggestions of Muggle drugs back to Draco.

Draco looked exhausted when he arrived the next Sunday, and Scorpius apparently was feeling the tension, because he was fussy, and couldn't even be consoled by offerings of ketchup from Lilyan. Finally, he exhausted himself with crying and fell into an uneasy slumber.

Severus sat with Draco, who was watching over the crib on the porch like a hawk, and let the lad rant.

"If we could just check him into a private Muggle clinic, but no, he's not setting foot outside the Wizarding world. So we've scrambled to find the drugs, and this V-fend costs a fortune. Anyway. He's now taking these Muggle pills, and due back for an examination next week." Draco sighed. "The healers muttered something about spores and encapsulation, and that maybe they would prefer to administer the drug directly to the blood stream, but he wouldn't hear of that, either."

"Painful, isn't it." Severus reached out to stroke Draco's hand where it rested on the crib.

Draco grabbed, and squeezed Severus's fingers, almost painfully. "Hmm?"

"Hearing them insist that they are older and wiser than you, and then having to watch them walk to their own doom."

Draco shook his head. "You're talking about your mother?"

Severus declined to answer. Her, and Tobias, and Dumbledore, and maybe even he himself. Too much good advice ignored all around.

"Do me a favour and kick me before I do anything like that to Scorp, will you."

"Only if you return the favour for Lilyan."

"Always."

Draco didn't let go of Severus's hand for a long while, and he had no urge to free himself, either.

xxx

Lucius's health was stable again, if nothing to grow enthusiastic about, by August. During the last couple of months, Draco had been working on seeing TrueBlood :P approved by the British MoM, found brewers and did the marketing. By September, he was able to concentrate on things beside that and Lucius again, and so they had a working JetLegs Draught just in time for Lilyan's birthday in October.

Draco had sent a present, or rather, a card with the owl who was the present, and came over the weekend after. By then, the owl, an even tempered male eagle owl, was going by name of Obi-Wan. Both Severus and Catlin had tried to steer Lilyan away from that, but to no avail. Telling the child about his role in the war was not advisable, not at her age, and so Severus had to just accept the name, like being still called Lord Vader on occasion. He'd gotten over that, too, hadn't he.

"Obi-Wan?", Draco asked when they were again nursing some wine on the magically heated porch on Sunday, "really? That's the elderly bloke killed by Darth... oh."

Yes.

Draco stood and carefully made his way behind Severus to massage his shoulders. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Look, I know I wouldn't have done it, and if you hadn't taken the Vow, he would have suffered a lot before he died."

"I know he suicided by proxy, Draco."

"Intellectually, you know that." Draco's fingers dug into a knot near Severus's spine. "But despite all that he did to you, you still haven't forgiven yourself, have you."

Severus lay a hand over Draco's, and Draco stilled.

"He'd been manipulating you with guilt... for fifteen years? Or longer," Draco continued, finally. "He tied you to a dead woman who most likely only died because he was a Gryffindor-loving bastard who didn't take an interest in the ease of mind of any one Slytherin. Never mind he was teaching Tom Riddle when he was at school, and could have seen what was coming if he'd just investigated Moaning Myrtle's death as he should have." There was a soft touch to the top of Severus's head. "I'm not saying you're blameless, but do analyse your decisions in relation to his."

For a while, they stayed like that. "The cupboard under the stairs," Severus finally said. Connecting dots, now able to vent some of the frustration of knowing that his best efforts had often been too little, too late.

"Excuse me?"

"As headmaster, I did have access to the chronicles, and to where the Hogwarts invitation letters were sent out to. As it turned out, Harry Potter lived in a cupboard under the stairs until age eleven." And Minerva had apparently never bothered to really look at the address on the envelopes.

Again, Draco seemed to need to process that. "Adding insult to injury, after all the trouble you went to for the boy. _You_ could have done better parenting than those Muggle relatives of his." Another of those odd touches to Severus's head. "_Ego te absolvo_, if it helps. Ten Rosaries. Rise now, and sin no further."

Severus snorted. Trust Draco to bring his Catholic heritage into play.

"I meant that. Your potions work is more redemption than the world deserves." And a third of those odd little touches, this time accompanied with the barest hint of a breath.

Draco left after a last squeeze to his shoulders, and Severus sat on the dimly lit porch for a long time, trying to puzzle out what it all meant, and whether Draco had actually kissed him.

xxx

After an uneasy night full of dark towers, green lights and pale tombs, Severus concluded that first things first, the Draco situation needed addressing, and found the lad when he was busy changing Scorpius on Monday morning. The talk was going to be infernally difficult, and the only thing that made Severus start speaking was the fact that so much drama could have been avoided, if he and Lily had had that kind of talk just once.

"What am I to you?"

Draco blinked owlishly. It seemed he had had a similarly bad night. "What do you mean?"

"You're here every weekend. You kissed me last night. Sometimes you look at me and I think propriety is the only reason you keep yourself from leaning into me. What am I to you?"

Draco did the last cleaning up, cheeks red with embarrassment. "I didn't think you minded."

"That is not the point. The point is what it means to you, and where you want to go with it."

Severus had to wait while Draco dressed Scorpius, and then offered the child a toy to amuse himself while they talked.

"I think I would like to be allowed to lean into you whenever I so wish." Draco still wouldn't meet his eyes, as if admitting to far more unsavoury predilections. "I'd offer the same privilege in return. I want to have your back as you have mine. I'd love to have you as a co-parent for Scorp, because Astoria isn't all that interested. I'd like to live in the attic flat with him and you. No shared bedroom, though. I... want to touch you, but not to bring you off." An amused sigh. "Sounds like a marriage without the sex and the candle-lit dinners."

Severus found himself considering the requirements, and found himself oddly pleased by them. "If you continue to be as tolerable a company as in the past months, I can do that."

Draco looked at him wide eyed. "Really?"

"It's called a platonic partnership. Now. We need to inform Catlin and Isobel, Astoria will have to have an input, and we need a plan how you're going to manage all that travelling back and forth. Also, I have hopes of coming back to life sometime..."

"Wait." Draco held up a hand. "You really mean that. About giving this – us – a try."

Severus tilted his head. "I don't tend to lie about such things."

An absolutely idiotic grin stole onto Draco's face, and next thing Severus knew, Draco clung to him like a monkey. He forced himself to accept the contact, and relax. It was no less than he deserved.

* * *

Part 3

(September 1st, eleven years later)

There was still a bustle in the aisle as people were trying to find seats. Albus Potter was happy that he and Rose had a compartment to themselves and could both claim window seats. He was just about to close the door so Rose could let Tigger, her cat, out of his basket, when a whine carried over a tall, black haired girl in purple robes and the guitar case on her back. She looked to be about seventeen. "But Lil-y-Anne. I know you can Apparate, we could be back at the station in no time."

Lily wasn't exactly a common name for witches. Al watched as the tall girl's brows knitted. She had almost black eyes, it made the look rather impressive, and very much not like a Lily at all.

"Holy jumpin', Stinger. It's a boarding school, not a freakin' prison."

"Explain to me again why I can't just attend Salem, Darth Lilith?" Quite scathing, that tone. And how did they know Star Wars? "I wish dad would file for divorce already."

"All in due time, my apprentice."

They both sounded a bit American. And what was it with this talk of divorce? Al couldn't think of anyone he knew who was divorced, much less talked about it in public.

And then, the girl stopped at where Al was lurking in the open doorway, and he could see the kid behind her was the Malfoy boy, and there was no way the tall girl could be blood related to him.

"Hi," the girl said. "There still room in there for us?"

"Sure." The conversation Al had overheard was far too interesting to worry about things like his dad's old school rivalry.

The girl and Malfoy junior filed in, another two owl cages were added next to Al's Hermes.

"So. We're the intruders, eh," the girl said when they had finally settled. "I'm Lilyan Fenny. This is Scorpius Malfoy."

"Scorp," the boy corrected.

"You're related to Potions Mistress Fenny?" Rose interjected.

"I'm her daughter, yes. And you are?"

"Rose Weasley. Hi."

"How do you do. And you?" Those dark eyes fixed on Al.

"Albus Potter."

Lilyan grinned. "Hello. I thought you looked familiar."

Well. Al knew there were things Mum and Dad sometimes mentioned, which were never elaborated upon, and he didn't quite like that. Especially when some strangers seemed to have more of an idea than he had.

"How come you two are travelling together?", he asked instead.

Rose huffed. "Al, how can you not know that Mr Malfoy is a business associate of Madam Fenny's. Really."

Nobody had to know that, unless they were Rose or Aunt Hermione, or Uncle Percy, but what the heck.

"Ms Weasley is correct. We kinda grew up together."

"Kinda?" Scorp grinned. "Your dad and mine have been sharing an apartment since I can remember."

Curiouser and curiouser, given how Scorp's parents had been there to see him off at King's Cross. "Look, I know it's not actually my business, but... your dad is married, isn't he?"

Scorp shrugged, shared a glance with Lilyan, and proceeded to detail their extremely odd family, which consisted of his dad, who was with Lilyan's dad, while Lilyan's mother was with someone called Isobel, who had recently adopted a little orphan girl who had survived a werewolf attack. And they all seven shared a house together. In Canada.

All the while Mr Malfoy was still married to Scorp's mother, but apparently, considering divorce. "Has been for ages," Scorp complained. They had both ganged up on him to make him attend Hogwarts, though, which Scorp found extremely unfair. Al could empathize, because the entire Weasley family had ganged up on him and Rose so they would be Sorted into Gryffindor.

It turned out that Lilyan had graduated the Salem Witch Institute early, would be helping Professor Merryweather with Muggle studies and also offer classes in French and German.

"You speak two foreign languages?" Rose's eyes were wide.

"One," Lilyan deadpanned. "_Je suis Canadienne_. French isn't a foreign language to me, eh. Besides, Isobel's dad is German, so I kind of picked it up along the way."

Ha. Finally there was someone who could show up Rose's and Aunt Hermione's know-it-all tendencies, and be funny at the same time.

The train ride passed pretty fast, while they were sharing food and trading the Hogwarts stories they had heard from their parents.

When they arrived, Lilyan patted his and Rose's shoulders, hugged Scorp, and then left them to the boats.

xxx

_Harry,_

_there is a Snape mini-me on staff this year. Care to explain?_

_Right._

_Al made Gryffindor, as he will have undoubtedly let you know by now. Rose is in Ravenclaw, and so is the Malfoy spawn, much to the surprise of everyone except said spawn and Slytherin house. He and Rose seem to get on like a house afire. Do bring it to Ron gently, will you._

_As to the reason for my letter, I know I told you about the Fenny girl who would assist Celia? I swear, she is Snape reincarnated. Female, and actually aristocratic instead of ugly, and with a lot of "eh", but otherwise, it's eerie. The way she looks at you along her nose, the evil smirk just before she spouts sarcasm, the monk-like way she hides her hands in her sleeves sometimes. I know we never found the body, and I know we all assumed Nagini ate him, or that someone took the body to take revenge because he was a spy, but what if the Bat actually had a back-up plan?_

_I wonder how Minerva made it through the speech, actually. She, Filius, Hagrid and a couple others look like someone walked over their graves._

_Best,_

_Neville._

xxx

_Hi Dad,_

_as predicted, my arrival here has caused a commotion and outbreak of rumours like you wouldn't believe. It's actually quite funny how they try to be polite about collecting info from Scorp, me and the two freshmen we met on the train. Al and Rose have the entire Weasley clan hounding them via post owl, while I reserve the right to remain silent and grin evilly. (Learned from the best, after all.) Kudos to Mom for making me Pandora by middle name, right now, I'm living up to it._

_Hope Dray didn't faint when he read Scorp's letter and learned who those firsties are. *offers smelling salt* Or maybe he feels totally vindicated. Though, apparently, Mr. Potter wasn't as forthcoming about his past to his kids as he should have been, and little Albus Severus (heheh) has complained to me multiple times about being kept in the dark, even though the school year isn't yet a week old. I set him up with a comprehensive war history and some dates to research the old Prophets of that time._

_Oh, and make Dray cut his hair. Those long strands don't do anything for his oval face._

_Cheers from Old Europe to everyone, and may the Force be with you._

_Lilyan_

xxx

_Dad,_

_Lilyan Fenny – the one you asked about – gave me this book. "The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lords." About Grindelwald and Voldemort. It says you killed Voldemort, and that one Severus Snape was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously, for spying._

_I know I told you that Scorp calls Miss Fenny's dad "Seph", or maybe "Sev", and sometimes "Lord Vader", and she does look a lot like the man in the picture. But really. There's this massive thing in your past you didn't tell me about, and I just don't feel like helping you out any more. Go talk to Mr. Malfoy or something, if you want info._

_Al_

xxx

_War hero alive?_

_As rumours have spilled out from Hogwarts by letters from excited and confused children, it seems that assistant teacher Lilyan Fenny is a near copy of missing in action war hero and Order of the Phoenix spy Severus Snape. Miss Fenny, when approached via mail, said her mother was Catlin Fenny, owner of Rainbow Potions mail order, and her father's name wasn't anyone's business. Given that Ms Fenny is purported to be married under Canadian law to one Isobel Grimm, the silence is understandable, however inconvenient._

_A letter to a Pentagram Way contact yielded the result that, in fact, Miss Fenny looks a lot like Mr Amir, who is co-owner of Rainbow Potions, and consistently refers to him as her father. Things are complicated further by the fact that Mr Amir has been seen in very close company with Draco Malfoy._

_Even if Mr Snape isn't alive, this author admits that the gossip concerning Lord Malfoy is too juicy to ignore._

"Draco."

His mother was lurking in the door to his office. Draco swivelled his chair and looked at her. "Good morning, Mother. I trust you've read the Prophet today?"

"I have. Be glad that your father isn't alive for this."

Draco sighed. "That was the idea, actually. This way, Astoria is home free and can file for the divorce herself..." Their sex dates had dwindled to nothing three years ago, when she had met a rather good looking pure-blood wizard from the Netherlands. Now she was just waiting for the paperwork to go through, so she could marry the bloke.

"And this Joseph..." Narcissa had known all along that Draco was living with a man, of course, "is he truly your godfather?"

"Do you want to accuse someone of cradle-robbing? Or me of being incestuous? I told you we're just sharing a flat, didn't I? No matter how salacious the Prophet wants the details to be."

"Why do you refuse to give me a straight answer? Is this man of yours really Severus Snape?"

"If he were, and I hadn't told you, and I'd just brought him over one day... what would have happened?"

She blinked. "Ah. I see you did learn some skills from your father, after all."

"I hope so." This way, other people were doing all the work, spreading the news and speculation.

"Excuse me, Mistress Malfoy. Master Malfoy." Tinny the house-elf ducked at their stares. "There is a guest waiting for you."

"Who is it?"

"Auror Potter, Master Malfoy."

Ah. Now the dance could really begin. "Show him here, please."

"Yes, sir, master, sir." Tinny beamed, and vanished.

His mother sniffed. "I shall leave you to your guest, then."

Draco stood as he heard Potter and Tinny approaching. Potter actually chatted with her. While Draco found the subservience grating, and made sure to be polite, he'd never thought to stop and have a friendly talk with the house-elves.

"Ah. Good morning, Mr Malfoy. Thanks for having me."

So that was how Potter wanted to play it. "Auror Potter. Please do come in, have a seat."

Potter took the chair offered, and Draco took the chaise.

"Tea?"

"No, thank you." And then Potter proceeded to stare.

"Did I forget a spot of shaving cream?" Draco asked eventually.

"You cut your hair."

What? Draco barely refrained from poking at his new haircut. "Miss Fenny was so kind to point out that my father's style doesn't particularly suit me."

"Ah. I never pegged you for bent at school, you know."

"No condolences to keep up the charade, Potter?"

Potter frowned.

"Besides, the politically correct term is gay. Even if it does not apply to me."

Potter cleared his throat, and seemed absolutely puzzled as to what to do with Draco's lack of attitude. It was a delight to see him so floored.

"So. Ah. Bisexual, then?"

"If you must know," Draco began in his best drawl, "there is no bi-, homo- or pan- in my descriptors anywhere." Cat had diagnosed him as a heterosexual wtf-romantic one day, but in truth, he couldn't care less, save for the fact that he obviously didn't pass as straight, and had no inclination to do so. He played with the black ceramic band where his wedding ring used to be.

Obviously, Potter had no idea what to make of the 'pan' either, so, as Lilyan would put it, obscure knowledge for the win.

"If you're here to pry into my private life, I don't think I have to answer, unless this is an official investigation?"

"No. Ah. I was going to ask whether Mr Amir is in any way related to or identical with Severus Snape?"

"The answer is there, Potter, and has been for a good ten years. If you truly are so curious, you'll just have to do your research. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"One more thing. You live in Canada, but work here. How?"

"I'm a Potions Master, Potter. Surely it is within my capacity to make special Floo powder or invent a potion against long-distance splinching?"

It was actually the latter, but that would have to wait until Sev would be able to take the credit for it that he deserved.

"Ah. Good-bye, then."

"Oh, I sincerely hope it's farewell, but I don't think either of us will be so lucky."

xxx

_Evening, Neville,_

_Malfoy was so kind as to give me a clue, and I worked out that Joseph Amir, Miss Fenny's father, shares a name with the first known Prince ancestor. It can't be a coincidence, between the "Half-Blood Prince", Miss Fenny's first name, the moniker "Seph" and her looks. As Malfoy pointed out, Snape is a Potions Master, so he would have at least carried a bezoar around._

_I can't believe he fooled everyone but Malfoy for so long, the old Bat._

_Best,_

_Harry_

xxx

First day of Christmas break, and the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive any minute. While Severus and Draco bulled a way through the thongs of King's Cross at four pm for Narcissa and Astoria, Severus felt extremely old, knowing he was the age of some of those kids' grandparents.

They rushed the barrier, and onto the chilly platform 9 ¾. It was a clear and unusually sunny winter's day, and he heard the silence spread out when people recognized him. He fixed the nearest person with a full glare, and was gratified to hear the woman squeak. Now that he thought of it, she reminded him of some Ravenclaw he had taught. Chang? Pathetic reaction for someone in their thirties.

But, at least, no one had fainted, as would have been the case if he'd entered the platform in September without warning. He felt, more than saw, Narcissa and Astoria edging away from the scenes to come.

"Snape."

The brat sounded the same, even after all these years. Severus did not turn, for once content to just ignore people who couldn't even use basic courtesy. Draco did some growling, but Severus kept him from responding with a look.

Finally, Potter came around them to ogle, the she-Weasley on his arm. A little girl, who looked like her carbon copy, hung back. Severus made a point to meet Potter's eyes. He could wait out even the greatest introverts, and he was an Occlumens.

"You have some gall, showing up here," the she-Weasley said.

"Please elaborate, Ms... Potter? As far as I know, the Canadian Ministry of Magic completed all the necessary paperwork."

"I thought you loved Lily Evans? And now you turn up, with, with him at your side."

Severus felt Draco bristle, and grabbed his forearm before he could draw his wand.

Potter shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. "Ginny..."

"You know you want that explanation as well as I do."

Another couple entered the picture, Weasley the second-to-last and the Granger girl, who still had unfortunate hair, with a few grey streaks that Severus so far had managed to avoid.

"It'd be grand to have the mysteries cleared up," Weasley the second-to-last said, while his wife looked somewhat uncomfortable at the stand-off.

Severus made a point to smirk at her. "There are very few mysteries. I had an antidote at hand, given the Dark Lord's favourite company, as well as a Portkey. The rest were rather tedious bureaucratic proceedings, I assure you."

"You're still carrying on with your Godson, of all people," the she-Weasley said.

"I resemble that remark," Draco drawled. "We are not carrying anything."

"I knew you wouldn't understand, Potter," Severus said. "Very few people do." He let the black ring on his right middle finger flash. "I would be amenable to discuss this without an audience and without insults. Once you have completed your research."

The incoming Express saved them from more unwanted attention. Lilyan was more enthusiastic about hugging Severus than she had been for years, and Scorpius tried his level best to use him as a jungle gym.

xxx

_Harry,_

_I found that pamphlet about all those obscure sexualities. My cousin Kit gave it to me a while ago, with them being well, a them. Ron still isn't particularly understanding about that, so I think it's best if we keep the information between us for a little while, until we figure out how to bring it to the Weasleys gently._

_According to the book, a black ring on the ring finger is usually a kind of promise ring, something like "no sex until marriage". On the middle finger it's a signal for asexuality. (As an aside, I think George might be interested in that.)_

_If Professor Snape showed us that ring on purpose, it means he was never lusting after your Mum at all, and just loved her in a friend-sense. And if Malfoy knows of the implications as well, I can only guess he's in some kind of sex-free relationship with the Professor._

_I have a hard time wrapping my head around this, and I can only guess that you will have similar trouble, but at the same time, knowing how homophobic Wizarding Britain is, I have a lot of respect for their decision to go public._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

xxx

_Lord Malfoy's Queer Love Affair!_

_Rumours of Messrs Snape and Malfoy being a couple were confirmed yesterday, when they arrived together at King's Cross to fetch their children. There seems to have been a sort of stand-off between the pair and the Potter and Weasley-Granger families. However, no one was available for comments._

_Oddly, Mrs Astoria Greengrass Malfoy was present as well, and reacted to this author's questions only with,"Yes, they have been together for a while. So?"_

_Other reactions from witnesses ranged from understandable disgust to surprise as to how well Mr Snape cleans up._

Severus snorted into his coffee mug very early on the 23rd. Good God, had really no one guessed he'd made himself ugly on purpose?

There was more to the article, of course, mindless drivel most of it, as was expected from the Daily Prophet. But things were on the move, now, and all was well in the world.

Or as well as it could be, with Scorpius insisting to have the Weasley and Potter spawn over during the holidays.

* * *

Credits and annotations:

Title taken from Metallica's "Wasting Hate"

Cat Fenny's name is derived from the ingredients of Shakespeare's witches' brew in MacBeth. Her full first name is a nod to Caitlin Moran.

Isobel Grimm was named after the German poetic name for wolf: "Isegrim".

There is a TV series by name of True Blood, based on the Sookie Stackhouse novels. It's the kind of humour Cat appreciates, including the emoticon for legal purposes.

Pansexuality, bisexuality and persons going by the pronoun "they" are a thing. Asexuality is a thing, too. However, not everyone wearing a black ring on their middle finger is asexual, and not every asexual is also aromantic, as I'm painting Severus here.

Amir does indeed mean "prince" in Arabian, the word "emirate" is derived from that, too.

My apologies to any Canadian readers, I'm sure I did get some things wrong, despite my efforts to the contrary.


End file.
